


Testing the Script: Esseles

by CherryFlight



Series: SWTOR: The Reflections Legacy [10]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, Force sensitive dorks being kind of awkward, Gen, Minor canon divergence, Socially stunted Sith playacting at being aloof and mysterious, The Force being weird and enigmatic as usual, because he doesn't know how to impress people
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:43:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryFlight/pseuds/CherryFlight
Summary: The Esseles has come under attack!  Flow and Abric rush to thwart Grand Moff Kilran's threat...except the Force has some very different ideas for Flow.
Relationships: Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython & Male Sith Warrior, Male Jedi Knight | Hero of Tython/Male Sith Warrior
Series: SWTOR: The Reflections Legacy [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643305
Kudos: 3





	Testing the Script: Esseles

Flow stopped abruptly as the team passed a maintenance access tunnel on the way to the hangar. Abric, his new ally he’d introduced as Corso, and a couple of troops bringing up the rear turned to look at him.

“Little buddy?” Abric tilted his head. “We kind of have an Imp cruiser to board…”

Flow shook his head, trying to make sense of the sudden sensation of being pulled aside. “I-…I feel something, in the Force. Go on, take the security droid too. There’s something I have to do.”

“Any idea what that _something_ is? A Jedi is worth something like ten of us normal people in a fight, right?”

“No, but I know that it needs to be done. I’m sorry. I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t leave you to a situation you couldn’t handle, Abric.”

“You wouldn’t. Would the Force?”

“You’ll be all right, Abric.”

Abric inhaled deeply. It came out shaky, his nervousness radiating faintly in his Force presence as well. 

“Captain, this is the surest he’s sounded about anything since this mess started,” Corso said. “And he’s been your friend for a long time, right? If you trust him, I say keep trusting him.”

Abric glanced at Corso, back to Flow. His nervousness faded, and he nodded. “Okay. Be safe, little buddy.”

“You, too, Abric, Corso - everyone.” He looked down at the astromech at his side. “Go with him, Teeseven. Keep them safe.”

Teeseven beeped a bright affirmative and warbled a bid to be careful. He rolled off after the boarding party, and soon Flow was left alone in the hallway. He reached out with his mind to see what the tunnel had in store, but only found a solitary life within, stable, steady, and in no distress.

The Force was calling him into it for a reason, he thought, and stepped through the circular portal to investigate.

—–

The tunnels were eerily empty. There were no hiding passengers, crew, boarders, or spies. There were no bodies. He came across a single maintenance droid, destroyed. He knelt to inspect it, and found no sign of weapons, only damage by some kind of large impact. Maybe something had fallen on it; a larger droid or something thrown in the chaos.

The sole life besides his own in this passage burned on.

How strange, he thought, worry of danger hastening his heartbeat. Part of him prepared to tune all else out but his pulse, his own version of focus, even as the rest of the thought tumbled on. Why was anyone in this situation _not_ in distress? Even the spies planted by the Imperials were afraid for their lives once the fighting began.

Around a bend, a green-skinned Twi’lek sat wrapped in a cloak that looked three sizes too large, loosely grasping the strap of a drawstring bag in front of him, which seemed mostly empty. He raised his head as Flow approached and a smile spread across his thin face. A scar with ragged edges ran across his nose to his left cheek. For someone who looked like he’d seen hardship, he was remarkably calm. A faint sense of pain leaked into the Force from a source he couldn’t find.

“Master Jedi, you found me.” His voice was rich and clear, carefully enunciated.

Something wasn’t right. His appearance, his demeanor, his voice, that _sense_ \- they didn’t add up, like one of those children’s holo-shows where the animators couldn’t make the eyes move quite right.

Flow had no idea how to respond, except to follow the script expected of a Jedi. “Do you need help?”

“Help? I suppose.” He stood, the cloak’s excess length pooling around him on the floor, as if he was rising out of a gray puddle. His smile took on a sharp, mischievous quality. “I have heard some things about you, Flow Volere.” His voice changed as he spoke. The careful enunciation gave way to a smoother, lightly lilting Imperial accent.

A spy, then. But to single out a Jedi like this…

He shrugged out of the cloak, revealing black armor with crimson and gold accents, large pauldrons with glowing golden circles like a butterfly’s eyespots, leather where flexibility was needed…and a lightsaber hilt fixed to his belt, radiating bright red from an exposed power crystal.

“You’re Sith,” Flow said, tensing, ready to draw his lightsabers into his hands.

But again, something wasn’t right. He hadn’t drawn his weapon yet. Where was the hatred, the malice? Where were the blemished pallor or golden eyes of dark side corruption? The Sith’s clear, bright blue eyes watched him with an eager, playful curiosity, and twinkled when he voiced his realization. It came with a little thrill, the first genuine thing he’d felt in his Force presence that made everything, even this revelation, feel manufactured. The thought that they were both following scripts flitted through his mind before the sound of the Sith’s lightsaber coming to life drew his complete attention.

“Yes. Let’s see if you are everything I’ve heard, little Jedi.”

Flow drew both of his lightsabers, and the two charged to battle in the empty maintenance corridor.

—-

In combat, half a minute was a long time. Long enough to become clear that this wasn’t really combat at all. The Sith parried Flow’s attacks and clumsily telegraphed his own. When he struck, he wasn’t aiming for him, but for his lightsaber. He _wanted_ to be blocked. Flow found himself falling into the choreography, unable to aim directly at someone who didn’t want to fight either. Flow looked over their deliberately locked blades at his opponent’s face, lively and exhilarated. It was genuine and pure of intent, and that made it oddly infectious as minutes continued to stretch on.

“Why are you fighting me?”

“Strange question, little Jedi.” The Sith pushed Flow away, and he staggered back. He drew his thin red blade back, clearly aimed to sweep low, and Flow jumped over the attack with ease, flipping himself over his opponent’s head, and crossing his sabers behind his back to block the followup warned for very clearly in the Force. Flow grunted in pain as the Sith pressed forward, bending his elbows awkwardly. He leaped again as the other jerked back as if burned, and they exchanged a midair blade clash as Flow landed on his other side again. He couldn’t tell who had initiated that one, but neither had intended to strike the other. “I am Sith, after all.”

“First-” Flow began, ducking another telegraphed swing and finding himself warning for his retaliatory leg sweep. A strange delight coursed through him at the sight of the Sith tucking into a midair flip as he dodged it - completely unnecessary, all show. This wasn’t battle, it was _play_. “-we’re the same size _. Second_ -” he spun to dodge a thrust and swung his main saber out at his side. “-you don’t want to fight and we both know it.” He didn’t need his heartbeat-metronome to focus. His heart was pounding in excitement - there was no danger to focus through. “This is a game.”

The Sith didn’t move to parry or dodge his next swing. Flow sucked in a panicked gasp, his heart leaping sharply in his chest, and deactivated the blade before it could bisect his opponent. A personal shield shimmered in the air as the inactive hilt passed between them.

The Sith rolled his eyes and smirked. “Did you think a combatant who specialized in Soresu form wouldn’t have one of these, just in case? Your concern is touching, though.”

He deactivated both shield and blade, and Flow did the same for his remaining ignited saber. He shared the Sith’s invigorated grin, a nervous laugh at the oddity of the thought as his momentary panic ebbed away. “That was Soresu? I couldn’t tell through all the extra spins and flourishes.”

“Please - you enjoyed those, I could feel it.” But his smile was bright and earnestly happy and looked nothing like the impish trickster persona he’d tried to sell before. “We can spar in truth in the future. For now, I-…wanted to know if you were as _interesting_ as I had heard.”

The teasing trickster was back. Flow couldn’t help an incredulous huff. “What did you hear, anyway?” Worry dawned, dampening his heightened spirits. “Wait - from who? Why would a Sith know about me? I only just finished my final trials as a Padawan.” But this playful, strange Sith meant no threat. He _knew_. “Someone might be trying to trap us somehow.”

He shook his head. “No, Flow. It’s not a trap. I can promise you that.” The Sith picked up his oversized cloak and nearly empty bag, slinging both over his shoulder. “I look forward to our next meeting.”

“Wait.” The Sith paused, half-turned away, watching Flow expectantly. “Do I get a name to call you?”

A deep, purring chuckle. “Not yet. Perhaps next time. Farewell, Flow.”

The traditional farewell came to him automatically as he walked briskly away, strangely easily for a conversation with a Sith. “May the Force be with you, Sith.”

“Is that the Jedi version?” he called back, without turning. “I like it.”

“There’s a Sith version?” Flow asked, but he didn’t get a response. Either the Sith was out of earshot, or didn’t want to share it. 

For a second, he considered running after him. But he thought of Abric and Corso and Teeseven, on an enemy ship without him, in danger, and he suddenly felt guilty for his diversion turning out to be so pleasant. 

The Force had sent him to play with a Sith. Why?

He ran the other way, grabbing a set of emergency medical supplies from the wall as he hurried to the hangar to wait for his friends’ return.

**Author's Note:**

> I realize Oberon is the only character with a detailed description thus far, I'm sorry. Getting descriptions of viewpoint characters out there without breaking the narrative is hard. Would there be any merit in making essentially an info sheet for everyone with pictures and stuff and moving it to the top of the series list?
> 
> That aside, thanks for the hits, kudos, and the one comment I have no idea how to respond to so far (it's not you, I'm socially awkward), I'm glad there are people taking a look at my stuff. This is an extremely self-indulgent project so it having any appeal at all to anyone besides me is a pleasant surprise. (That goes for those of you who have been following me on tumblr too! Love you all!)


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